by Christopher Scribner

First came Donald Trump and then came Biden,
and lately to the list we add Mike Pence.
Top Secret papers need a place to hide in,
like houses owned by these distinguished gents.

It’s time we searched the homes of Rockefeller,
Van Buren, Gore, and Colfax for a few;
John Adams’ attic, Agnew’s musty cellar—
and now George Santos claims he has some too.

by Clyde Always

“Women reveal they are deleting dating apps in favor of ‘hunting for husbands’ at HOME DEPOT…”
—Daily Mail

Endlessly swiping through dastardly duds?
Head to Home Depot for quality studs.

by Julia Griffin

“[P]eople are using ChatGPT to chat with matches on Tinder”
—Mashable

I’m chatting with matches on Tinder:
I sound like a bore and a liar.
What is there to help and not hinder
My efforts at lighting their fire?

It’s CHAT, and it’s hot as a brazier!
It’s CHAT with a G, P, and T:
And given I’m slower and lazier,
Who’d want to make do with just me?

by Philip Kitcher

“I’ll never leave that woman.”
—Kevin McCarthy

You shine out with a radiance I ought to have seen.
I was blind, and I followed the party routine,
So I shunned QAnon—
Now the blinkers are gone.
How I blush for my past! What a fool I have been!
Here’s my pledge—I won’t leave you, sweet Marjorie Greene.

You’re a vision transcending the humdrum and mean,
Gulping cash like the fanciest Vegas machine.
(I admire, I confess,
Your fundraising success,
And I’ll punish those critics who think it obscene.)
Let us share all our bounties, sweet Marjorie Greene.

I’ll do penance for sin till my conscience is clean.
I’m on fire with the zeal of a love-stricken teen.
I’ll no longer dissemble,
I flutter and tremble.
How I long to embrace you and crown you my queen!
We shall shake up the world, my sweet Marjorie Greene.

by Steven Kent

“Trump mistook rape accuser for his ex-wife in deposition”
—CNN

Rapery japery–
Trump, former president,
Saw his accuser (who’s
Rightly aggrieved),

Called her his ex. Was he
Opportunistically
Feigning insanity?
I sure believed!

by Nora Jay

“Restaurant responds after woman spots dead husband in new promo footage…
Lucy Watson was certain she saw [her late husband in the video, eating at the Indian restaurant.]  …
‘The moment I saw the thing I thought, ‘Oh my God—that’s Harry’. …
He’d be eating a chicken korma because that’s all he ever ate.’”
—LAD Bible

“I know that man—I was his wife!
It’s Harry—lately ‘late’”
Cried Mrs. Lucy Watson, sparking drama;
So can this be his afterlife?
Is “all he ever ate”
His lot henceforth—a ghostly chicken karma?

by Ruth S. Baker

“Man who was ‘swallowed’ whole by whale says he only realised what had happened once it went dark”
—LAD Bible

“Whale meat vending machines open in Japan”
—Boston Herald

Whale swallows man!
Hard subject for raillery:
At least in Japan,
World center of whalery.

Whale meat for sale!
But think of your sanity:
First check out your whale
For signs of humanity.

by Dan Campion

“Fine Dining and the Ethics of Noma’s Meticulously Crafted Fruit Beetle”
—The New York Times

To craft a beetle out of fruits
An unpaid intern toiled
So VIPs in tasteful suits
Were spared an evening spoiled

By lesser, vulgar, amuse-bouches.
I think of Chaplin’s shoe,
The one he ate in Gold Rush, louche,
But tromp l’oeil that rang true.

by Bruce Bennett

“An ant’s sense of smell is so strong, it can sniff out cancer”
—The Washington Post

An ant can sniff out cancer?
Whoever would have thought
that we would find the answer
through ants that can be taught

To locate with antennae
what soon might make us ill?
May I remember when I
am told that I must kill

The ones that swarm our table.
They’re welcome to my food.
As long as I am able,
I’ll let them. Why be rude

Instead of being grateful?
Why listen to one’s wife
and act as if they’re hateful?
An ant can save your life!

by Iris Herriot

“Chef releases 20 cockroaches into restaurant kitchen after fight over unpaid holiday pay”
—LAD Bible

This cheap encroachment on my pay
Outstripped reproach and scornful looks.
I broached it thus a different way:
A new approach for cocky cooks.

by Julia Griffin

“Birdsong boosts mental wellbeing for 90% of people, UK poll finds”
—The Guardian

That 10%—a mighty throng,
In fact some seven million strong—
Receives no kind of mental boost
Or happiness when introduced
To liquid sounds of blackbird song

Appalls me. Do they want a gong?
Tones sweeter than a scuppernong
Have not, apparently, seduced
That 10%.

To what strange cult do these belong?
What ups their mental state —mah jongg?
An hour with Wittgenstein or Proust?
Would Super-Wordle get them juiced?
Or might this poll malign and wrong
That 10%?

by Alex Steelsmith

“Girl asks police to test cookie for DNA proof of Santa…
[The evidence was sent] to the state’s Department of Health-Forensic Sciences
unit for analysis… ‘to be examined for traces of DNA and compared with profiles
on record for the above-named suspect/aliases’…”
—AP News

Munchily, crunchily,
someone mysterious
nibbled the treats. Did he
break any laws?

Though it’s debatable
jurisprudentially,
evidence indicates
probable Claus.

by Geoffrey Basking

“Court agrees with artist Peter Doig that ‘Pete Doige’ painting really isn’t his”
—The Guardian

That Doige ain’t Doig and Pete ain’t Peter
Will make the art world sleep the sweeter.
To foil a dodge like this is sweet.
Doige? Do ignore. For Pete’s sake, Pete!

by Eddie Aderne

“A drunk man has impaled himself on a statue of the Archangel Michael while allegedly
attempting to steal valuables from a church in Monterrey, Mexico, near the US-Texan border.”
—LAD Bible

An anti-angel reels and trips,
Presaging the Apocalypse.
If he’d not lost but kept his head on,
He might have bypassed Armageddon,
But Michael honors his vocation.
The wretch finds this a Revelation.